“AHOY!”
Slank jerked back, his knife leaving a thin line of blood on Molly’s neck. Both of them turned toward the source of the shout—a flat rock, twenty-five yards offshore, its occupant clearly visible in the bright moonlight.
“PETER!” shouted Molly.
Slank spat out a curse. It was impossible! He’d killed this boy himself!
But there he stood, water dripping from his hair, his arms crossed in defiance, surrounded by mermaids, as if they were guarding him.
He had one foot on the rock.
The other rested firmly on the trunk.
CHAPTER 68
THE BARGAIN
FOR A MOMENT THEY JUST STARED AT EACH OTHER, across the silver stretch of lagoon—Slank and Peter—the man and the boy.
It was Slank who broke the silence.
“Do you see this, boy?” he said, holding up his knife, twisting it so the blade glinted in the moonlight.
“I see it,” answered Peter with a shout.
“Good,” said Slank. “Now, understand this. If you don’t do exactly as I say, this knife will be covered with the blood of your friends here, starting with the young lady.” Grabbing a handful of Molly’s hair, Slank jerked her to her feet. She cried out in pain.
“Molly!” shouted Peter. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t listen to him, Peter!” she shouted. “Don’t let him…OWW!” Slank had silenced her with another yank on her hair.
“You understand the situation, boy?” Slank shouted.
“I do!” answered Peter.
“Good,” said Slank. “Then we can do business.”
“Peter, NO!” shouted Molly.
Slank jerked her head again, and again she cried in pain.
“You keep quiet,” Slank hissed at her, “or I’ll cut your throat just for the satisfaction.” He called out to Peter, “I’m curious, boy. How did you get the trunk?”
“I took it when you were talking about killing them,” said Peter.
“Clever boy,” said Slank. “But how did you get it out there on the rock so quick?”
“My friends helped me,” Peter answered, gesturing at the mermaids.
“I see,” said Slank. “So the devil-fish are on your side now?”
“They are,” said Peter.
And, strangely enough, it was true. Peter still didn’t quite understand it. All he knew was that, head throbbing in pain, he’d awakened in the water, in the embrace of the mermaid he’d saved. And, somehow the mermaid was talking to him, except that her mouth wasn’t moving, and her words were only sort of words, because they were also pictures, and feelings. Peter found that somehow he understood the mermaid—she called herself Teacher—effortlessly, and somehow she understood him, and the importance of protecting the trunk—she called it Creator—from the bad men. When they heard the struggle on the beach, and saw the trunk unguarded, a plan of action formed instantly in both of their minds at once, as if they were thinking with one brain.
Slank shouted, “If them devil-fish will do as you say, I think we can work ourselves a mutual bargain, boy. I’ll trade the life of this girl—the lives of all your friends, here—for that trunk.”
Molly started to shout something, but Slank clapped his hand over her mouth. The lagoon was silent, except for the low hiss of the gentle surf and the rumble of the distant waterfall.
“All right,” said Peter.
“NO!” shouted Molly, yanking her mouth free.
“Shut up!” said Slank, covering her mouth again. To Peter, he said, “I knew you was a bright boy. A reasonable boy. So you’ll understand that I have to add a condition to the bargain.”
“What condition?” asked Peter.
“I need safe passage in that dory, back out to the ship,” said Slank. “You need to tell them devil-fish to leave me alone.”
Peter looked down and exchanged a look with Teacher, who was in the water just in front of the rock where he stood. Then he looked back at Slank.
“They’ll leave you alone,” said Peter.
“I appreciate your assurance on that,” said Slank. “I’m sure you’re an honest boy. But just the same, I need me a little protection.”
“What do you mean?” said Peter.
“I mean the girl goes with me,” said Slank. “Your other friends can stay, but she goes with me in the dory, with the trunk. Once I get to the ship, I’ll leave her in the dory, and your fish friends can swim her back.”
“Peter, don’t do it!” It was Alf yelling now. “Once he’s got the trunk on the ship, he won’t have no reason to let her go!”
“That’s right, Peter!” shouted James, sitting up. “Don’t do it!”
“Shut them two up!” barked Slank. Little Richard shoved the two protesters back to the sand with his huge right boot. Slank shouted to Peter: “What do you say, boy? Do we have ourselves a bargain?”
“How do I know you’ll let her go?” said Peter.
“Because I’m giving you my word,” said Slank. “And if you don’t agree to my bargain, I give you my word I’ll start cutting throats here, and you’ll see that my word is good. So what do you say?”
Now the silence was total; even the sounds of surf and water went momentarily quiet, as if the lagoon itself awaited Peter’s answer.
“All right, then,” said Peter. “I accept your bargain.”
Molly tried to shout something, but Slank, anticipating her reaction, kept his hand clamped hard on her mouth.
“There’s a good boy,” he said. “You just saved your friends’ lives. Now, here’s what you do. You have two of those devil-fish swim that trunk to shore and shove it ashore right by that dory there. Just two, no more. Then I want them to swim back with their heads high, where I can see them. I want to see all of them creatures’ heads when we row out of here, and I want you to stay on that rock ’til we’re gone. You understand all that, boy?”
“Yes,” said Peter.
“That’s good,” said Slank, “because I’ll have my knife to this young lady’s neck, and there’s no human nor fish can move fast enough to keep me from cutting her. You understand, boy?”
“I understand.”
“Good,” said Slank. “Now, send them devil-fish over with the trunk.”
Peter crouched on the rock, exchanging a look with Teacher, who turned to the other mermaids and emitted a long and complex series of guttural sounds. Two of the mermaids, both auburn-haired, swam to the rock. Peter slid the trunk into the water, where it bobbed, corklike, on the surface. The auburn-haired mermaids got behind it, and began propelling it swiftly toward the beached dory.
“That’s a fine lad,” said Slank, watching the trunk’s approach. “A fine lad, indeed.”
Peter didn’t answer. He stood statue-still on the rock, his eyes trained on Molly. She, too, seemed to be looking at him, but, even given the bright moonlight, was too far away for him to see her face clearly. It was probably just as well, because the look in her eyes, as the trunk came closer and closer to shore, was one of cold fury.
But Slank saw the girl’s look, and understood it. It gave him great pleasure.
“The boy likes you very much,” he whispered harshly to Molly, keeping his hand firmly clamped over her mouth. “But he’s not very savvy, is he?”
Then he laughed as Molly struggled, uselessly, to reply.
CHAPTER 69
REPRIEVE
“PADDLE, YOU DOGS!” SHOUTED STACHE. “Paddle and kick! We’re making headway!”
The exhausted pirates groaned, but complied, for they could see that Stache was right: the capsized longboat, with agonizing slowness, was curving toward the far leftmost of the two points of land that framed the lagoon. As veteran seamen, they all understood the urgency of the situation: if they could not push the longboat over to the point in time, the current would sweep them past it, and out to sea.
So paddle and kick they did, at Stache’s urging. So desperate was the situation that even Stache, tucking
his sword into his belt, paddled and kicked—it was unheard of: the great pirate himself, reduced to this.
They were nearly even with the end of the point now; it loomed in the moonlight fifty yards away. Too far. None of them could swim that distance; most of them—typically, for pirates—could not swim at all.
“Cap’n,” cried Smee. “We ain’t gonna make it.”
“PADDLE AND KICK!” roared Stache in response, but he, too, saw that it was hopeless; they were clearly past the point now. He considered his options: if he could right the capsized longboat, and bail it, he might have a chance to survive. But there were ten men clinging to the overturned hull. Too many to get the boat floating again. He’d have to get rid of some.
“You men on this side!” he shouted. “Let go!”
The pirates closest to Stache—there were five of them—stared back at him, too stunned to answer.
“I said let go!” shouted Stache, awkwardly drawing his sword.
“But, Cap’n,” protested the man next to him. “If we…”
“LET GO!” roared Stache, making his point by clubbing the man’s hand with the hilt of his sword; the pirate screamed in pain and released the boat, sliding back into the water.
“Now, you!” shouted Stache, starting to bring the sword down on the next man—this time, blade-first. The second pirate leaped backward, followed quickly by the other three.
Ignoring the men he’d just sentenced to drown, Stache turned to the remaining pirates, who watched him fearfully.
“Now,” he said. “We’re going to turn this boat over and bail. You men move to…”
“Cap’n!” interrupted Smee.
“WHAT IS IT?” bellowed Stache, very close to running Smee through with his sword just to shut him up.
“The men you knocked off?” said Smee.
“What about them?” said Stache.
“They ain’t sinking, Cap’n,” said Smee.
Stache whirled around and saw it was true: behind him, five heads, and five sets of shoulders, poked up from the surface of the lagoon, steady as rocks.
The discarded crewmen were standing, chest deep. A sandbar extended off the point of land.
The pirates could walk to shore.
CHAPTER 70
ALMOST THERE
SLANK CAREFULLY WATCHED the two auburn-haired mermaids swim back toward the rock where Peter stood. When they were nearly there, he addressed Little Richard.
“Turn the dory over and put the trunk in it,” he said.
“What about them?” asked Little Richard, gesturing toward Alf and the boys, who were facedown on the sand.
“They won’t be no trouble,” said Slank. “Unless they want the little lady here to get her neck shortened.”
He kept a firm grip on Molly as Little Richard waded out to the dory. The big man turned it over easily, and Slank was gratified to see that, other than the half-moon-shaped piece bitten from the transom by the mermaid, the little boat appeared undamaged. It would certainly get them to the ship. If necessary, he could try using the starstuff, but that could prove dicey: trying to fly the boat, and the trunk, and Little Richard, and the girl. Especially the girl: she concerned him most of all. A Starcatcher by blood, she might be real trouble once near the starstuff.
Secretly, Slank had no intention—none at all—of letting Molly go. The boy was a fool to believe otherwise. Instead, Slank could see himself returning to Rundoon as a hero: he would be bringing with him not only the largest harvest of starstuff in human memory, but also a member of a legendary Starcatcher family, the daughter of the great Leonard Aster. King Zarboff would be very pleased. The King loved pretty girls—he was sure to reward Slank heavily.
Little Richard loaded the trunk into the stern of the upright dory.
“All set, sir,” he said.
Slank dragged Molly through the water and lifted her into the bow of the dory. He crouched next to her, knife still poised. Little Richard pushed off, then climbed into the middle seat and took up the oars.
Slank kept his attention fixed on the rock where Peter stood surrounded by the mermaids. None of them appeared to have moved.
“Remember our bargain, boy!” he shouted.
“I remember,” replied Peter.
Fool, thought Slank.
The oars dipped, pulled, rose; dipped, pulled, rose. Little Richard’s powerful strokes, aided by the seaward current, pulled them rapidly away from the beach, toward the wide mouth of the lagoon. Slank kept his eyes on the rock, but still saw no sign of movement. As it finally slipped from sight in the distance, Peter and the mermaids were still positioned exactly as they had been.
Slank switched his attention to the water, watching for the dreaded Vs. He saw nothing, heard nothing, except for the swirling eddies caused by Little Richard’s steady strokes.
In ten minutes’ time they reached the mouth of the lagoon, and began to round the rocky point. Slank now fixed his attention on the masts of the Jolly Roger and considered what he would do with the ship’s crew. They’d likely be unhappy, having been tied up all these hours. Some he would have to throw overboard. Some he would keep to sail the ship, using Little Richard—and the power the starstuff would give him—to control them.
Out of the lagoon, and into open sea, Slank checked the water’s surface again: Still no signs of mermaids. He began, for the first time in many hours, to relax. He released his grip on Molly’s mouth. She spat, as if disgusted by the taste of his hand.
“There now, young lady,” he said. “I’m not so bad, once you get used to me. Which you will, on our voyage to Rundoon.”
Molly glared at him, but said nothing.
“He’s a fool, your trusting little friend back there,” taunted Slank.
“He’s a good person,” said Molly. “He did what he thought was right. You wouldn’t understand that.”
As they approached the Jolly Roger, which sparkled in the moonlight, Slank could see the inert forms of the hog-tied pirates slumped over the booms, just as he and Little Richard had left them.
“Almost there,” he said to Molly. “Welcome to your new home.”
CHAPTER 71
A GOOD THING
BLACK STACHE SLOGGED TO SHORE, his sword drawn, his men in front of him, where he could see them—especially the ones he’d thrown off the boat. They’d been muttering and grumbling among themselves, and he sensed mutiny in the air.
As they reached dry land, he decided that, given the unusual circumstances, it was time for a little motivational speech.
“Now, men,” he said. “I know some of you might be unhappy with the way things has been going.”
The men stared sullenly back at him. Stache continued: “But if I hadn’t shoved you off the boat back there, you’d be lost at sea now, wouldn’t you? We’d all be lost! Think about it, men!”
The men frowned, thinking about it. Stache pressed on.
“So it’s thanks to me you’re standing here, isn’t it? Without your captain, you’d all be dead. Am I right, men? Well? Am I?”
Some of the men were scratching their heads now. A good sign.
“Of course I’m right,” said Stache. “That’s why I’m the captain. And that’s why you men do what I say. And right now, I say we march back around to that beach, and kill them buggers what took our treasure, and get it and ourselves back to the Jolly Roger. Well? Then, let’s go, men!”
And with that, he passed through the group of them and strode off in the general direction of the waterfalls. From there they could continue on around to the beach. After a few strides, he glanced back: his men, led by Smee, were following. They looked none too happy, but they were coming. Stache looked forward, and smiled.
Pirates, he thought. It’s a good thing they’re idjits.
CHAPTER 72
CHANGE OF PLANS
SLANK COULD NOT STOP TALKING. He was almost giddy now, as the dory drew near the Jolly Roger. He felt confident that, with the power in the trunk, the crew would b
e his. It pleased him to have Molly to boast to, to taunt.
“D’you fancy snakes?” he asked her. “Because King Zarboff has a big one. Don’t get too close to it, though. It fancies tender young morsels like you.” Slank laughed.
“You’ll never get to Rundoon,” said Molly, her voice even.
Slank cut his laugh short. “Who’s to stop me?” he said. “You? Your little trusting friend, back there on the rock?”
“No,” said Molly. “My father. He’s coming, and he’ll find you.”
Slank laughed again.
“And what if he does?” he said. “Even if he manages to find me, do you think he’s any match for what’s in that trunk?”
Molly tried to remain expressionless, but Slank caught a flicker in her eyes.
“Ah,” he said. “I see that you see my point.”
“Yes,” said Molly, although that was not what she had seen, not at all. What she had seen, and almost betrayed, was the dark shape coming across the water from the direction of the lagoon mouth, low and fast. She saw it because she was facing the stern; Slank, facing her, did not see it.
“Yes,” she said, “I suppose you might be right. There must be a great deal of power in that trunk.”
“Oh, indeed there is,” said Slank, enjoying the fact that his prize captive was talking now. “More power than has ever fallen to Earth, at least in human times. That’s what they say. Power enough to change the world.”
“What will you do with it?” asked Molly, desperate to keep Slank’s attention, to keep him from turning his head toward the shape in the sky. She worried, too, about Little Richard, who was facing the stern, but his head was bent forward, his attention focused, for now, on his oarwork.
“What will we do?” said Slank. “Why, we’ll change the world, of course! We’ll command the world, we will. Once we kill off you Starcatchers.”
The flying shape was close now.
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